Cathedral builders

I love when I just happen upon a new blog – I came this blog Large Family Life from the writer’s comment about bees and autism (both of which I can relate to). While grazing through her posts, I came upon this one about Mother’s Day. When things are so well written that they strike something in me, I feel compelled to share. This is an excerpt from Maria’s blog post and I appreciate what she has written.

I leave you with this excerpt from Nicole Johnson’s novel The Invisible Woman (W Publishing Group, 2005):

I’m invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, “What time is it?” I’m a satellite guide to answer, “What number is the Disney Channel?” I’m a car to order, “Right around 5:30, please.”

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.

She’s going … she’s going … she’s gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.

I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, “I brought you this.” It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: “To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.”

In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

* No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names.

* These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

* They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

* The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, “Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.”

And the workman replied, “Because God sees.”

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, “I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.”

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, “My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.” That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add,”You’re gonna love it there.”

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

I can relate to Maria – not so much because of the large family (she outdoes me by 3) but she is also a lawyer and a mom. We have to stick together. Some days I feel invisible – today is one of them.

There have to be 5 things even on a really bad day.

Translate Me!

3 comments

You don’t have to be a woman or a lawyer to feel the power of invisibility. I have known the sting of being unacknowledged for years, by friends and family for things done around the house, things done on houses of family members, ect. Now as a private contractor I often feel the sting of invisibility or unrecognized effort, usually from people with more money than I will ever make.

You make the effort, because it is you, the way you work they way you are. Doing the right thing because it is the right thing to do, Putting your family ahead of yourself to make their lives and futures all that they can be.

I used to get bummed by the lack of acknowledgment, then I was just disappointed because I expected a different result. Now I just take pride in the fact that I can do what needs to be done and do it well, not everybody can. And keeping my family safe and happy.

This essay was sent to me as an e-mail and I also found it encouraging. I have recently changed my job description from “stay-at-home mom” to “Soul Sculptor.”
(inspired by a blog I like). Regardless of whether or not a mom is a working mom or at home, our contribution to our children’s lives are our legacy.